It Only Hurts When I Breathe
by Lucky Koriand'r
Summary: [Complete♥]Her green sweater clung to the back of his head, her legs, clad in black tight pants, were shaking. Rated for language, attempted suicide, and minor sexual themes. 23 34 486 Thanks for over 1000 hits!
1. Chapter 1

**It Only Hurts When I Breathe  
**  
_What's Good For Me_  
  
-  
  
It was obvious.  
  
She'd never love me.  
  
If you couldn't see it, you'd have to be blind.  
  
I wasn't alone. Numbuh 1 was on my side. He was going through exactly the same thing. He won't let me forget that, bitching about Numbuh 174 and he's not good enough for Numbuh 5.  
  
It's not about me. But still, it's nice to have someone to know how I feel, even though he doesn't listen, only dumps his problems on me.  
  
I really appreciate what everyone's done. It's just, what has to be done has to be done.  
  
I placed the note on his desk while he babbled on about Abby. He didn't notice. I knew he wouldn't. I pretended to look at my watch, and blurted, "Oh my God, it's that late already? I gotta go Numbuh 1!" And scuttled quickly out of the room before he could say anything.  
  
As I approached my room I raised my hand lightly to my throat.  
  
Pinching slightly before I let go, I moved it to my door knob. I looked behind me. Everyone else was asleep, and I was pretty sure I'd taken care of Numbuh 1.  
  
As I entered my room, my eyes drifted to the poorly hidden knife out of habit.  
  
I'd been trying for a long time, but now I'd finished all my _preparations_. I didn't know it would take this much work to take the easy way out.  
  
I knew it would hurt everyone, but I'd be gone. It's their problem. I want to hurt her, for what she did to me, but it's not her fault. And I know if I hurt her, she'd just go to **him** and cry on his shoulder.  
  
I guess I don't really want to hurt her, I just want to be him.  
  
He'd taken her from me.  
  
He knew I'd liked her. He'd warned me, but he laughed after he'd said it. I thought he was joking. But what was I supposed to think? He and I had just become close friends.  
  
It wasn't the first time he'd said something like that. When he took her, I'd realized he hadn't been joking about anything else, either.  
  
For a while all I could think was, _how could I have been so fucking stupid?_  
  
He's a conniving bastard that plays innocent way too much that half the time he runs out of excuses. Nobody else ever notices.  
  
Breaking out of my reverie I realized I'd been standing by the small pile of crap I'd hid the knife in for several minutes.  
  
I bent down to the floor and swept away the single paper hiding it. My fingers touched to rubber handle. It screamed "Su-su-suicide" to me. That's why I'd bought it in the first place.  
  
I'd been cutting for months.  
  
I just noticed a few days ago the small blotched blood stains. I never thought to clean it. Didn't matter now. I never had to worry about that again.  
  
I put the knife to my wrist.  
  
As I began to dig my eyes clenched shut. Even after I realized it was a stupid idea I'd been preparing for so long.  
  
It didn't hurt to cut or to die, but I wanted to see the result of my revenge.  
  
It was a stupid drunken decision that I don't know how I thought of. After I sobered up a little, I found the note and remembered everything I'd concluded a good idea the night before in which I'd spent alone, crying.  
  
The bloody hangover mingled with my good judgement.  
  
The moment kept flashing against the black darkness of my eyelids.  
  
_The moment I walked in, smiling, excited, and panting from running so fast, I realized he'd convinced me to leave the tree house to get flowers so he and Kuki would be left alone. I walked into the room and the flowers dropped from my hands.  
  
He was exactly where I'd hoped to be in a few moments.  
  
Her green sweater clung to the back of his head, her legs, clad in black tight pant, were shaking. That was when I ran from the room. I couldn't watch anymore._  
  
My eyes shot open.  
  
For the first time since I was five, I felt tears mingling with my sweat. Back then I cried all the time. It's ironic, I cried when people called me a crybaby. But when I was five, I made a pact with myself (my only friend) that I would never cry again.  
  
I felt a shudder run through my body.  
  
My hands started shaking and I lost control. All of my body fell to the floor, the carpet covered in a puddle of blood.

....Muffled sobs pounded in my ears.  
  
How much blood had I lost?  
  
Maybe I wasn't strong enough to die just yet.  
  
"Wally!"  
  
Kuki?  
  
No.  
  
Probably not.  
  
It was Abby.  
  
Her voice was high.  
  
I cracked my eyes open, only enough to see.  
  
I hoped no one would notice.  
  
They didn't.  
  
They never did.  
  
Abby was being clutched by Chad.  
  
She was nestled in his lap.  
  
Hoagie was there, too.  
  
Nigel and Kuki weren't.  
  
No reason to be up.  
  
I fell back to sleep in seconds....._(Please Read and Review!)_


	2. Chapter 2

**It Only Hurts When I Breathe  
  
**_One Truth_  
  
-  
  
He looked around, bored of the awkward silence.  
  
Out of the window, the trees flew by. His constant debate with himself whether he should alow this to happen had left his mind, as before he had a chance to decide, he'd found himself in the car and on his way.  
  
He couldn't really blame time as he had spent most of his time thinking, _this is so stupid!  
_  
He often wondered what he was doing in this world. Since a few months ago, he knew. He was waisting his time. The office building was fast approaching. He walked slowly to the door, his mother in front of him, scuttling nervously, his father behind him. The air around his father was disapointment, maybe shame.  
  
He sighed for what seemed the millionth time since noon, when he'd found out about this. _Why did they have to tell my parents?_ The office building, in spite of it's title, consisted mainly of cubicles, hardly any offices, and Wally realized he'd have to talk about this in the open.  
  
Which was stupid. Who would make a building like this? What's the point? Who would talk about their problems with so many people so close, and in such a collapsed space?  
  
Apparently Fanny.  
  
"Why, hello, little Fanny." His mother said with false enthusiasm, in an attempt to cover up her previously scared nature.  
  
_Numbuh 86?_ He thought. She said nothing in return to the creepily cheery mother, and instead looked at Wally with a look mixed with sympathy, concern, confusion, and her own depression. She walked past, indeed, without a word, but patted him on the shoulder on her way by.  
  
_Wonder what's up with her...  
_  
He sat down in the chair and picked up one of various toys from the desk of the psychologist, as the man said, "Welcome, Wally!" And then to the parents, "I want to ask you some questions in a minute, but before then I'd like to talk to Wally alone."  
  
They obliged without comment.  
  
The psychiatrist got straight to the point. "So, can you tell me why you did this?" Wally, pretending to be obsorbed in his toy, shook his head. "Look, I can't help you if you don't tell me." Without moving his eyes or stopping his hands he said, "I don't really want help."  
  
The psychiatrist sighed, then said, forgetting to sugar coat it, "look, smart ass, you obviously have alot of problems that you don't want to talk about because maybe you're embarassed or your being harrassed but you have to learn to talk about it or else nobody will want to be around you. Your parents are paying alot of money for having you here, so you better start talking."  
  
He showed no reaction. Though, after a minute, he became frustrated with the toy and through it back on the desk. "I don't really need help."  
  
Shaking his head, the psychiatrist nodded towards the door. "Go. And get your parents."  
  
**...  
**  
"...And we're going to let you stay at your little tree house. I just want to make sure you're putting in an effort, after I heard that report, can you really blame me?"  
  
Out the window, they'd past the trees, now there was only grass. Nothing but a mile of grass left, and then they would be home. Well, him only for a few seconds. His father hadn't said a word to him, and his mother wouldn't shut up.  
  
He was so glad that he was getting away from that.  
  
**...**  
  
It was 11:38. Wally was sitting on the couch. No one else was in the room. He'd been thinking for about an hour, but now an image came to his mind, and he couldn't get it out of his head.  
  
_Her face, sweaty, her bare shoulders shaking, moaning with pleasure._  
  
Everytime he saw he shook his head and smashed his fist into his temple. It was sick. _She's ten!_ And then it hit him. _I'm ten. I'm only ten. I drank and... Oh my god, I tried to kill myself. How did I not notice how wrong that was before?  
_  
As it sunk in, he began to shake.  
  
He jumped as a hand touched his shoulder, and turned to look into the eyes of it's owner. It was Kuki. This was the first time he'd seen her since... "I... We need to talk," she said quietly. He nodded, and she sat down. "Can you tell me why?" Though he could barely hear her, and she wasn't quite clear on her request, he knew exactly what she was talking about.  
  
"You were kissing Numbuh Two when... I was gonna..."  
  
"You were going to tell me about your crush?" He was shocked. "You _knew_?" She tried to smile, but failed. "Of course, silly. Everyone did. But that isn't much of a reason to kill yourself."  
  
Wally sighed. "Me and Numbuh Two had just become really good friends. We told each other all of our secrets. He supported me, and told me to tell you. He knew that I was going to tell you that day, he even had me go out and get flowers for you. Then he swoops in behind my back and steals you..."  
  
Kuki gasped. "No, he didn't. I was the one that told him that I loved him. I'm sorry, I thought you knew that!"  
  
_What? He didn't do it?_  
  
**...**  
  
After the suprising revelation, Wally was torn. Part of him was happy. Hoagie hadn't betrayed him. But the rest of him was just as depressed as the way it had been. Kuki knew and she'd never said anything. She never loved him.  
  
Wally had gone to everyone and explained that he was better and that he hoped that it didn't have to be wierd, and life returned to normal.  
  
He hid his feelings once more, but this time so that he could try to get over his feelings for Kuki. It had been working well.  
  
**...**  
  
"All right, team, we have a new mission." Nigel said. It was truly a change in his morning speeches. That hadn't had a mission for months. Adult activity had settled distinctly in the dissaray of events. Now it was back full force.  
  
"Okay, I lied. It's not a new mission, but there's an addition. The adults are planning something. We have to infultrate the Delightful Mansion. And... It's that time of the year again. We have to make the Delightfuls play nice with other kids, and learn to share."  
  
Suprisingly, no one was dissapointed. "Woohoo, cake!" Abby yelled with glee.  
  
"Well, alright. Let's get to work."  
  
They equipped with the new weapons they'd been working on over the break from teenage tyranny, and a S.P.L.A.N.K.E.R. or G.L.U.M.B. here and there.  
  
Just before they left, Nigel asked, "does anyone have any questions?"  
  
"Yeah," Wally started. "How do you contact the _Kids Next Door_ Moonbase?"  
  
**...  
**  
_(Please read and review. Oh, and I realize I accidentily put 174 for Chad in the previous chapter when it should be 274.)_


	3. Chapter 3

**  
It Only Hurts When I Breathe**

_Plays With Dolls...?_

-

"_Oh God,_" he breathed, trying to cease his panting as he shoved himself further into the nook of the room. It hadn't been going as planned. Well, HE'D planned to stay home, but with promises of, "I know where she lives, I'll drop you off on the way back," in whatever way he wanted to say it, Numbuh One had convinced Wally to come.

Not that it mattered anyway. He wasn't doing anyone any good, just sitting around.

The S.P.L.A.N.K.E.R. he'd carried around (along with a couple of other things, which had been lost in chases) was grasped so tight in his fist that the fact that his palms were sweaty enough to slide on wood didn't have any effect on it.

This was just not right! TVs were made for **watching**, not **fighting**.

That's right, over the "break of teenage tyranny" wasn't so much that, as they'd found out, as a break to strengthen teenage tyranny.

And frankly, that sucked. More than anything had ever sucked to Wally in his life. Another TV was growling around the corner, barring it's teeth on the screen, leaving Wally with the vague feeling that he had to destroy himself, for all he loved TV, as he smashed the screen in with the all-too-high-tech-piece-of-wood. Since they'd arrived at the manor, they'd fought nothing but toys! When he'd said "dolls are only good when they fight," he'd been speaking metaphorically.

Well, not really, but he felt an immense need to defend himself and expel any self-doubt (no good thinking that he wasn't good at fighting, the only thing he **was** good at) with memories like that.

In fact, any memories. The word itself brought back images of...

He shuddered, allowing himself to believe that he hadn't just been thinking of _wanting_ to turn thirteen.

When that happened, none of this would matter, right?

And he need'nt ever even know.

* * *

_Biggest waste of time... If I ever gotta do that again..._

They'd walked out of there, not with cake, but with tons of scratches, bruises, and nightmares for weeks.

Wally'd started to think all too often about how 86 was sooo far past not being worth it. But, on the way out, he decided that he at least deserved something for his troubles, and allowed Numbuh One to lead the way.

* * *

She looked small, like a child. Well, she was a child, but she looked like a much, _much_ smaller child.

Flowing in too-big clothes, Rainbow Monkey dangling from her loose fist, eyes pink and face bearing red streaked of puff from tears. Just seemed wrong on Franny. He felt compelled to ask her, "what's wrong?" To console her. But refrained. Reputation.

Every day he hated the word more and more, because that had become all that mattered. Sometimes, he just felt like breaking down in front of everybody, let them all know the truth, that he wasn't just Numbuh Four, that he was becoming Wallabee Beetles once more. Save for his eleventh birthday coming up, he couldn't find a reason for this to happen.

That's what always filled his mind, until now. Somehow, 86 had put herself in his mind, shoving, compacting him to the tiniest corner of unused brain.

"What?" She screeched in that voice, the one that seemed to scare everyone. Wally kind of honored her. She was just so... Powerful, strong. But right now, she looked so small and weak.

It confused him.

Not her, he understood her, except right now, and he was thinking that maybe that was it... What made it so confusing. "You play with dolls?" He managed in his normal, unshaken voice, with a smirk.

Franny looked a little shocked and through the doll behind the doorframe. "So?"

He laughed a little, before turning serious and said, "I need to talk to you."

"So talk."

He squinted around her to the source of humming. He couldn't tell, but it seemed to be coming from a room that looked like the kitchen. "Can I... Come in?"

She grunted in consent, and backed away from the door. Wally stepped in carefully. It didn't feel like he thought her house should be... But he scolded himself, saying that he didn't know her.

He opened his mouth to say something, but she shushed him, and led him to where he suspected was her room.

Franny sat on her bed and motioned Wally to sit… At either a Rainbow Monkey tea table or a large Rainbow Monkey bean bag chair.

Flopping on the bean bag, he said, "it's about… You were at the, um, counseling place…"

She made a look like she wanted to tell him to get out, but she just said, "I've been having family problems."

Wally didn't need to say anything. She was already twelve, and who knew her birthday? It could be tomorrow, or, hell, for that matter, it could be today!

She seemed so interested in the KND, one wouldn't assume, but he been wondering for a while if she was preparing a daring escape. This had definitely been the best time of her life… Was she really ready to give that up?

"You… When's your birthday?" He ventured, somehow not feeling right, not even wanting to know.

She paused, mouth agape and drying. "Soon. Three-and-a-half months."

* * *

It hadn't been a long visit, nor a very pointed one in his memory.

_Seems this whole day has been a waste of time…_ He thought on the way out. Down the stairs, the woman's humming, from the kitchen, had shifted to the living room.

She was a plump, middle aged woman. Probably around thirty, or late twenties.

The tune hadn't changed.

"Mum!" 86 yelled, embarrassed. The woman, Franny's mom, looked up and broke the tune. "Oh, sorry dear. Am I embarrassing you in front of your little boyfriend?"

The look on Franny's face was so priceless that Wally had to hold in laughter by wishing he'd brought a camera. Catching his eye, she glared her best 'laugh and you **_die_**' look.

Her mother chuckled and walked away.

At the door, her face dropped a little and tinted red. Apparently under her mother's influence, she said, "uhh, well, umm, thank you…"

Giving his cheek a peck, she ran upstairs to her room and slammed the door. Wally stood stunned in the open doorway.

His face tinted as well. He smiled lightly, knowing that tonight, for the for night since he could remember, he wouldn't be having nightmares.

…

_(Thankies for the reviews! The whole "dolls are meant for fighting" thing was from C.A.T.S., for anyone who cares. Please review! And sooooooo sorry for the looooooooooooong update! I got it up, though! Finally._♥


	4. Chapter 4

**(A/N: Decided to change POV _WHENEVER_ I want. Don't get confused. And ignore that fact that I didn't note how I did that in the first chapter…)**

**It Only Hurts When I Breathe**

_I'm A Believer_

--

Paper. Paper is wonderful. I don't think there ever was a time I was more grateful for it. Yes, that's right! I'm gaining vocabulary and dialect other than what's been passed to me! I'm still not smart, but I'm definitely no the same little idiot I was at nine.

Like how I don't spell "four" with a "Q" anymore.

Anyway, back to paper.

Lately I've taken to drawing. Not that I'm good at it, no, but I've been sketching the tree house… Because I still want a part of this time in my life to still be here.

But today, today is special.

I spent all last night trying to draw Franny right. Never turned out, but I've been up since six and I swear I am ALMOST there.

She has a _normal_ head, which is a big improvement. As much as I'd like to just get rid of this whole period of time (inevitable anyway) this is the best memory I've ever had.

**This **is building me up to be what I am to be, whatever it is.

It's crazy, but _get this_, I **like** reading… Not good at that, either, nor do I do it a lot, but I actually enjoy sitting down from time to time with a nice chapter book. Usually, they still have pictures in them, but I've read at least four, that's right, my number in book, that didn't have pictures.

I laugh about that sometimes. _I'm a nerd! _It's not true, of course. I'm not even defending myself. But when I grow up, there is _no way_ that the nerds would let me join their clique.

And that's, well, a little bit… Sad… And…

* * *

Okay, so I fell asleep.

I'm not a morning person, OKAY?

Numbuh Five walked in on me sleeping all over Franny… Hasn't let up on the torment, yet. Also, failed to notice the faded "Happy BIRTHDAY!" tracing my arm in ink.

She woke me up only after fiver minutes… I think we each have some sort of psychic connection to our "Numbuh"s … Huh.

We're making eggs, now.

Actually, she's teaching me _how_ to make eggs.

We are doing this because:

a) We're hungry, which is obvious, as… FOOD.

b) **We are _bored._** Bored out of our minds, bored, because _no one gets up at SIX! IT'S INHUMAN! _So, of course, make food!

"…And then you just flip the egg, and… Numbuh Four? What's up? You okay?"

I nodded, trying sincerely to believe I was… But Kuki and Hoagie just walked out. Hand in hand, they walked up to me, solemn and grim.

It seemed so foreign on Kuki. It seemed like something had changed in her, so much so that it almost made me want to cry, and that's saying something. "Numbuh Four…" they both started, in creepy monotone. Kuki finished alone with, "we need to talk to you."

Abby gave me a funny look as I walked away. It was somewhere between suspicion and concern. So I shot her a reassuring smile.

Following them to the room so choke full of items from the Aviators' catalog that I wondered why we never realized that we _are_ supporting adults, giving them monopoly over companies which have the complete ability to use propaganda. Huh.

"So…" I started, looking away from their prying eyes, and sitting on Hoagie's bed. "Whatcha wanna talk ta me about?"

Ha. I knew full well what this was about.

"We…" Hoagie began, looking uncomfortable. He nudged Kuki, and she started for him. "We just wanted to tell you that we're sorry, that you're one of our best friends and we don't want to ruin that… So… Will you go out with me?"

Well.

Wasn't expecting that.

* * *

_(Short **and **cliffy! I am EVIL. Please R&R.)_


	5. Chapter 5

**It Only Hurts When I Breathe**

_All Alone In The Moonlight_

--

"Ow! Oh, sorry!" Mumbled apologies followed them in the dark, all the way to their seats. The loud, violent movie had already started. He knew Kuki hated to be late… But he wasn't sorry. It had been her fault, though he'd never tell her that.

Wincing at the gore on the screen, Kuki grabbed at Wally's hand.

Cuddling up to him, but still in her own seat, Kuki seemed to be begging attention and sympathy, as she let out a long series of whimpers. Girls.

Wally knew that she was looking to get her first kiss tonight, as all females, she probably couldn't wait to romance up her life.

She'd always said she thought it was gross, but that's a foolproof plan to get boys comfortable around her…

Thus allowing her to "entrance" them.

_**

* * *

**_

I hated that in people.

Except Kuki. I do love Kuki. It's just… She thinks I'm so stupid. She won't have decent conversations with me, she's so obvious about things she doesn't think I'll get… And I know she doesn't really want to be with me. I'd love for her to just say that she didn't want me. I wouldn't tell anyone, of course…

They'd call me crazy.

But if she told me that, I'd know that she hadn't been lying to me all this time.

Enough talking stupid, and on to pointless movie description.

I'd love to say that we were sitting in the fourth row seats for "Violence the Movie," cleverly hidden under layers of clothes, Kuki so far buried underneath too much make-up, her lips stumbling to the side in that oddly cute kiddy way, because the lipstick was on lopsided.

But, no. No, this movie is "_much_ better. Not so much violence!"

Sometimes she made me wonder. I would want less violence if I wanted to go see "Violence the Movie," at very least, and it's been birthday/Christmas/every gift giving holiday dream to get a ticket for "Violence the Movie IV: Return of the KICK!"?

Well, I suppose, since she would much rather be in "Rainbow Monkeys 2: The Quest of the Ever-Happy Friends," settling for "The Terminator ½: The PG Movie" isn't so bad.

But what's blood and gore for Kuki, is like a… Cookie, to me.

I know that it's a dumb thing to say, but that's what it is. Sweet, mild, a touch of loose flour.

My God, how the mind wanders when your extremely bored, most likely being accused of being gay, because you don't want to kiss a girl that started to feel like your sister some time ago.

Prodding the back of my neck, Kuki was obviously moving in on me. The prodding probably hadn't been so much a warning than a stumble, a mistake.

Pointedly, I dropped my popcorn, pretending to be oblivious.

Kuki pouted, knowing the game I was playing (oddly too well for a ten-year-old to know). "Please," she whispered, not sultry or seductive, just tiny, begging. "Just once."

For the moment I looked at her eyes, so warm and hoping, I felt like she could read my mind. She knew that I was thinking that it was more than likely… Our first date would be our last. Did she just want a souvenir or was she planning on writing a memoir? The only thing I could see through the submissive barrier on the "first layer of Kuki" was that she didn't want this to be the end-all, but she'd willingly change and hide her feelings inside.

More of a sister than ever and yet, so much more renewed crush, I felt wrong all over because I didn't want to ruin this for her, but the thought of her wanting me to kiss her…

Wasn't all that bad.

One. I'd give her one, just a peck, on the cheek. That's more of a sisterly thing, anyway.

Wrapping my arms around her delicately, I leaned over her head, and decided her forehead was as good a target as any. When I was done, I let my arms rest around her, just a little longer, and put my chin on her head. Just reveling in the fact that I didn't sense any disdain or disappointment coming from her.

"_This is where we are_," I said to her, reassuringly, all the while, though, her oblivious to the meaning. "_This is where we can stay, right here, safe and warm. If you want._"

She sighed. I wasn't sure if it was from confusion, or if it was the result of her feminine fancies, the romance of whispering sweet "nothings" in her ear in a dark place. Not my idea of romance, at all. I think a movie theater isn't for kissy - kissy - happy - teenage - hormone - fantasies, but for some old fashioned ass-kicking!

Unfortunately, the time ran short for the movie, as it always seems to fly when you're holding someone you may only think of as a sister, ever.

But that would be enough, right?

Love of any kind can change.

I just have to make it up from here, just to see if I can make Kuki happy. If not, I failed, but I won't be missing anything.

I'd decided long ago. On my thirteenth birthday, I'd go calm. I didn't want to remember this. Now, I'm sure that they won't take me out without a kicking fight. It's my life, and I want to live it happily, reminiscing on days of my childhood. As a teen, I want to lurk in the shadows with Cree and Abby, who we all know will get away. It's in the family, I guess. I think we'll be the only ones, watching over the Kids Next Door, maybe old friends or new faces.

Teenagers always seem out to get us.

I remember more than on occasion of Cree helping Abby.

And I swear, with every fiber of me, every atom, that I will do anything in my power…

To be her.

And then I can live happily ever after.

Just for now, though, this is enough.

**The End**

_(A/N: I know, I know. It's a really short story. I'd first planned it to only be five chapters long, but the plot changed and I thought I'd be writing this for a lot longer, just because I like it so much. I guess I found the perfect ending though, because I love my story, now more than ever. I hope you enjoyed and please review if you like it and want a sequel or something…._

_Much Luch, _

_Lucky Koriand'r (but that's probably EmotionalNapsack to you. :P)_

_Thanks for reading!)_


End file.
